


Freakin' Mistletoe!

by OldSchoolTrekkie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Crack, Domestic Dean, Don’t copy to another site, Fluff, Gen, Narrator may be channeling Dean, No Michael!Dean, Pre-Slash, Pretending 14x09 didn’t happen, and pie, baking Dean, can be read as pre-destiel, crack and fluff, holiday baking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-27 02:03:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17153216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldSchoolTrekkie/pseuds/OldSchoolTrekkie
Summary: It’s Christmas-time with the Winchesters, and Dean’s never seen so much freakin’ green stuff outside of what Sam shovels in his cake hole. Oh, and Jack? Yeah, he’s a bit....enthusiastic.





	Freakin' Mistletoe!

Jack had been reading about Christmas traditions. This was pretty much his first Christmas, since the previous December they’d all kinda been In A Bad Place and nobody’d had time even to acknowledge the holiday.

When Jack read something about mistletoe, he’d scurried down that rabbit hole and learned that not only was it tradition to kiss under the greenery, but also that it had been used to ward off demons and evil spirits, once upon a time. And the source had mentioned witchcraft. And he knew a witch. Personally. One he thought was nice, and had tried to save his life. So, of course, he called Rowena for her opinion on mistletoe.

Rowena being Rowena, and probably having Ulterior Motives as witches often do – even witches who are Trying to Reform and Do Good Things From Now On – played it up and encouraged Jack to hang mistletoe in every single doorway of the bunker, even those doorways which only opened upon a supply closet. She must have supplied the kid with piles of the plant as well as red velvet ribbon, because the bunker had a heck of a lot of doorways and archways, and a fancy-red-bowed bundle of the stuff was now hanging in EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. And after all of those were decorated, Jack had started hanging it in random places in the middle of rooms.

Rowena’s reasoning to Jack was, and I quote, “just for a wee bit of a backup, in case all that Men of Letters’ fancy complicated warding fails. Besides….who doesn’t like a bit of kissing during the holidays!” Dean didn’t know what her game was, but he didn’t like it, and wanted to make that clear.

“I don’t know what her game is, but I’m tellin’ ya man…I don’t like it,” Dean shared with whoever was within earshot, once he found out what was with “all the freakin’ green stuff every freakin’ where” because, of course Jack told him everything that Rowena had said. Jack’s honest that way.

Sam, the complete nerd, actually had the nerve to jump on Jack & Rowena’s Bandwagon of Crazy and say the mistletoe wasn’t a bad idea.

“Y’know, it’s not a bad idea,” began Sam. “And besides, it’s festive.” The giant moose shrugged. “It won’t hurt anything, as long as nobody decides to taste it, and it’s potentially helpful against Evil.”

“Well, it didn’t keep Rowena out. Or that 10-foot-tall green monstrosity in the library,” Dean countered.

“Rowena isn’t evil anymore, Dean. She’s been very helpful and you know it. And that’s a Christmas tree. You even helped decorate it.” Dean’s moose of a brother reminded him. “I especially like the angel tree topper with Castiel’s face pasted on. Any idea where THAT came from?”

Dean studied the floor, feet shuffling, and pretended he wasn’t blushing. Sam pretended he wasn’t noticing. He cleared his throat and continued.

“And anyway, Dean — why are you being such a Grinch? You’re the one who was always all gung-ho about Christmas when we were kids. Even when we had no reason to celebrate, you were always trying to get me excited about it. Besides, Jack loves it, and you agreed: we should all try to make Christmas nice for him.”

“Shut up and pour the damn eggnog before Jody and the girls get here. And don’t skimp on the rum this time,” the older Winchester changed the subject abruptly. Dean grumped off in search of someone to agree with him. Good thing he didn’t hold his breath.

**********

In Dean’s opinion, Jack was totally outta his mind crazy about the whole mistletoe thing. He went a bit psycho with Kissing People – any people – anyone at all – under it. The Apocalypse World hunters had mostly relocated to places of their own by now, so there were only ever a few of them around at any given time, coming by to check in with Chief, or re-up their  supplies. Occasionally friends and fellow hunters they’d known forever stopped in. Whoever was there at any particular moment was apparently considered fair game by Jack. He’d taken to lurking in proximity of mistletoe, in hopes of jumping under the greenery just in time to meet someone under it. He’d flash them a huge smile and give ‘em a fast & friendly kiss on the cheek. Everyone just went along with it and laughed with Jack afterward. The kid’s joy was contagious.

During Jack’s first day of Decking the Halls, Jack surprised the crap outta Dean with a guerilla-attack mistletoe-kiss and garnered a “What the hell, kid?” in reaction. Jack’s crushed countenance while looking up at the mistletoe in confusion made Dean take a step back and apologize.  He’d then hugged Jack and given the boy a quick fatherly peck on the forehead . Heck, it wasn’t even as if there was anyone else around to see, so no big deal, right?

In the next few days, to his own amazement, Dean had started giving spontaneous Doorway-Bro-Hugs, and even the occasional Completely Manly and Not Girly at All kiss on the forehead to anyone who wasn’t eighteen feet tall. So, Sammy just got a lot of hugs. Who could even reach that forehead for a kiss, anyway?

When Dean hugged Cas for the third time, he quickly (but shyly) kissed the angel just above his left eye. Cas responded by “booping” Dean on the nose, grinning widely as he did. Dean turned as red as the bow on the mistletoe above them. After that, Dean went with just the hug, while Cas surreptitiously kissed him on his cheek, or ear, or his shoulder – wherever his mouth was closest to while Dean held him tight for another extended hug. If anyone noticed that Dean/Cas hugs lasted for a much longer time than anyone else’s, they said nothing. At least, not around Dean or Cas.

On one of the increasingly more frequent times when Rowena found a reason to be around, she seemed to always be passing through doorways at the same exact time as Sam or Cas with  _uncanny_  frequency. And of course, her kisses were smack on the mouth and somewhat…thorough. While Sam didn’t seem to mind her kisses AT ALL, Cas reverted to the Awkward Angel the Winchesters had first met, and usually took to standing in Dean’s personal space or hiding in a locked room whenever Rowena was in the bunker. The witch knew better than to attempt any such shenanigans with Dean.

Everyone who was around the Winchesters long enough had learned what a great cook Dean was. Of course, he made killer burgers and steaks, but after years of making do in motel kitchenettes just to keep Sammy and himself fed while Dad was hunting, Dean could work some serious mojo when he had a Real Kitchen. Those motels had never had an oven, so Dean had never learned to bake anything. Not even a freakin’ pie.

So, Dean decided that part of a “nice Christmas for Jack” should include a few kinds of made-from-scratch Christmas cookies and at least two kinds of pie. Because, PIE, am I right? Jack eagerly became Dean’s apprentice pastry chef as they learned together, researching Baking Basics and Christmas Cookie recipes, leaving the usual monster lore to Sam. Once Dean mastered pie crusts, there was no stopping him. In addition to the cookies, Dean produced a different kind of pie every day. There had never been so many sweets in the bunker at one time.

And where there are sweets, one should never be surprised to find a Trickster.

Two days before Christmas, Sam ran smack into Gabriel, who was coming out of the kitchen, his mouth full of Christmas cookies. Gabriel fumbled for a minute keep hold of the half-gone pecan pie in his hands. He’d clearly found the aerosol can of whipped cream in the fridge, as it was generously covered in perfect peaks of fluffiness.

“Hey, Samshine!” the Apparently Not Dead Archangel greeted with a snarky grin.

In the next moment, something rare occurred. Something rarer than resurrection of the dead, at least when Winchesters were concerned.

Sam Winchester was speechless for two entire minutes.

Then he began to sputter about “But You Died” and “I saw Michael kill you” and “Apocalypse World” before grabbing the short angel in a fierce hug, lifting him off his feet like he weighed nothing. “How are you here?”

Somehow the pie was still balanced in the archangel’s hand.

Smirking, Gabriel replied, “Hashtag Not Dead.”

Sam rolled his eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he set Gabe back on the floor. “Well. Obviously. But HOW? You died. In another dimension.”

“A trickster never tells, dude. Don’t look a gift archangel in the mouth,” Gabriel grinned.

He looked up as if only just now noticing the mistletoe above their heads.

The pecan pie dropped to the floor, somehow right-side up and intact, the whipped cream on top still looking perfect.

“Pucker up, Samsquatch.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written as a secret Santa gift for luciathewinchestergirl, Christmas 2018. Not fully tagged, to avoid spoilers.


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